Jade War

The Pillar of the Mountain clan was standing on the other side of the crowd, in a long, white jacket and white scarf, surrounded by her own people. Hilo could barely see her from where he stood, but he didn’t need to; he could Perceive the distinctive density of her jade aura easily enough. The irony of her presence at the very place where Hilo’s elder brother Lan lay turning to dust in the ground would’ve enraged Hilo if he’d allowed himself to dwell upon it, but he did not; he had no intention of giving his rival that satisfaction.

Yesterday, Ayt had issued a public statement praising Kaul Sen as a national hero, a father of the country, and the beloved comrade and friend of her late father, Ayt Yugontin—let the gods recognize them both. She expressed sadness over the recent strife between the clans of these two great men; she hoped the unfortunate disagreements could be overcome so the country might move forward in the spirit of unshakable unity once demonstrated by the patriotic wartime brotherhood of the One Mountain Society.

“Bullshit,” Hilo had said. He did not for one second believe that Ayt Mada would ever abandon her goal to kill him and his family, to destroy No Peak and take unquestioned control of the country’s jade supply. Blood scores were not erased by press releases.

“It’s a good public relations move,” Shae had said. “Reminding people of Grandda’s partnership with her father and thus associating herself with the legacy of all Green Bones.”

Beyond that brief analysis, his sister had spoken little in the past seventy-two hours, even outside of the official two-day silent vigil. Hilo glanced at her standing beside him, her spine straight but the puffy circles under her eyes still visible under the white mourning powder that dusted her face. Her normally sharp jade aura seemed muted. Shae had loved their grandfather, had always basked in his favoritism. She’d wept bitterly upon his death.

Hilo returned his attention to the crowd. Other top leaders of the Mountain clan were in attendance; standing near Ayt Mada was a short man with slicked hair—Ree Turahuo, the clan’s Weather Man—and next to him, a man with coarse features and a closely trimmed salt-and-pepper beard to match his hair. Hilo knew relatively little about Nau Suenzen, who had succeeded Gont Aschentu as Horn of the Mountain, but rumors and spies told him that Nau possessed a reputation as a devious guerrilla fighter who’d conducted sabotage missions and assassinations for Ayt Yu during the Shotarian occupation. He’d been only twenty-three years old when the Many Nations War ended. He did not appear, either from his unassuming appearance or the coolly bland texture of his jade aura, to be half as powerful or impressive as his predecessor. Hilo suspected this was itself a deception to be concerned about.

The Deitist penitents in white funerary robes—two dozen of them, for such a large crowd and such an important funeral—concluded the long religious ceremony with several refrains of let the gods recognize him, which were echoed multitudinously by those gathered. Hilo closed his eyes, focusing his fatigued Perception as he scanned through the mental noise of thousands of breaths and beating hearts. There: Unseen somewhere behind the cluster of Mountain clan members was the familiar cloudy jade aura of a man he’d once called his uncle. The former Weather Man of No Peak, a traitor to the Kaul family. Yun Dorupon was here, and he was grieving.

“Don’t bother. We won’t get to him today,” Shae said in an undertone. Perhaps she’d seen the look of concentration on his face, or simply Perceived his animus, but Hilo was surprised. He hadn’t thought that she’d noticed Doru, that she was paying any attention at all.

She was right, of course; they could not act in violence in the presence of penitents on the day of their grandfather’s funeral, but more pragmatically, there were too many of the Mountain’s warriors present—hundreds of their Fists and Fingers arrayed across from No Peak’s own. When Hilo widened his Perception, the auras of all the Green Bones in attendance created a heavy buzz of jade energy like the ceaseless chatter of a busy street. The clans were making a show of strength with their respective numbers, but today they stood in truce to honor the same man.

The huge gathering began to disperse. Hilo braced himself for the long, unavoidable task of putting on a solemn countenance and accepting condolences from the clan’s inner circle of influential loyalists—Lantern Men, politicians, prominent Green Bone families. Earlier on, some disquiet seemed to be going on near the entrance to the grounds, and Maik Kehn had sent one of his Fists to investigate. Now Kehn appeared at Hilo’s side and said in a low voice, “There’s talk about a dead body being found in the cemetery last night.”

Hilo’s mouth curved. “Only one? Did the others get up and leave?”